


The park

by Morethancupcake



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Break Up, Cheating, Crushes, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Isolation, Jealous Clint Barton, Jealousy, M/M, Puppy Love, Recovery, SHIELD, The cheating part isn't Phlint if you're worried, it starts with an established Phil/Brock, kind of a hero worship here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 22:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11860785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morethancupcake/pseuds/Morethancupcake
Summary: "Clint reminds him of a Labrador puppy. An irreverent and hilarious one. He talks a lot, and when they part, Clint promises to be back soon."Clint barges into Phil's life and destroys everything. But maybe it's for the better.





	The park

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted on Tumblr.
> 
> http://iwanttopizzamanyou.tumblr.com/post/164418197149/the-park  
>  
> 
> Please remember English isn't my first language before you decide to yell at me for all the typos. The lovely twangcat helped me in the beginning of this story, and I'm not proud to say I ignored most of her very good advice. I'm sorry, you're the best and I don't deserve nice people to pay attention to me.
> 
>  
> 
> Small disclaimer : I honestly couldn't find who could be Phil's boyfriend, and it ended up on Brock, mostly because of his physique. Don't try to find any ressemblance with the actual character in the movie : there's none.

The stranger is the first to talk.

Phil doesn't mind it, actually, that's the first thing rushing through his mind. He's actually glad for the smile, and the polite words. 

The park is still relatively empty during his late lunch, and he actually can't remember the last time someone talked to him out of kindness.

"Sorry to break your little bubble here." His smile is crooked, but his eyes gentle, and he giggles a little when he offers his hand. "My name's Clint, I just started over there." 

Phil is pretty familiar with this part of SHIELD. Not so long ago, he was working closer to the field. And well, he still has several meetings and conferences to attend to in the building.

His partner still works in this building.

But still, he feels a little pang of something, like nostalgia, and sadness when he nods and waves toward the other building. "Phil. I'm usually..."

"HQ. Yeah, kind of noticed. Suit and everything."

It isn't mean. It's not even meant to be funny. Clint smiles and takes a bite of his sandwich, and that's just how it is.

That's how it starts.

 

Clint reminds him of a Labrador puppy. An irreverent and hilarious one.

He talks a lot, and when they part, Clint promises to be back soon.

"I take my lunches here every day." Phil smiles politely. He knows within a few weeks, Clint will have a whole lot of new colleagues and friends, and he'll avoid the silence at all costs. He made his peace with it. "Maybe we'll see each other again ?"

"Well, my boyfriend's usually working at that time, so I guess I need to keep myself occupied." Clint winks, and Phil finds himself smiling watching him leave.

 

"Uuh, about that boyfriend comment." Phil is actually surprised to see him the day after. Clint places a huge bag of cheesy chips between them, and unwraps a cold burger. He glances at Phil's home made sandwich and sighs softly. " I try to get it out of the way as soon as I can. Got no time for assholes, you know ?" He blushes and tries to apologizes but Phil takes pity on him.

"My partner and I have been together for two years now. He's working here too." He leaves Brock's name out. Not that he's ashamed, far from it. He's not exactly sure what Clint is doing, he doesn't want to pry. If they work together, sooner or later he'll know.

"That's good. Good." He sighs, chewing his burger. "Man I need to find myself better meals. This is so..." He glances at Phil's lunch again. 

"The cafeteria offers great options." 

"Yeah. Well." Clint point to his ears. The hearing aids are subtle enough that he didn't notice. "Can't really enjoy crowds. So you're stuck with me."

"A few bakeries around do sandwiches. You could check them out ?"

Phil decides he likes Clint. He tells him about his day, and Phil actually laughs a few times.

"See you around, Phil."

 

Phil's life is a little dull, a little boring. He doesn't mind. Much. Things used to be different, before. He's not ashamed of his heart condition, it is what it is. If anything, he's glad they managed to detect and prevent anything worse from happening.

He isn't sure, really what his life used to be before. 

He remembers greasy take-away on his desk, and laughing with the teams. He remembers the adrenaline, and the coffee refills. He remembers sparring, drinking too much sometimes, and Brock's laugh when they would just grab each other and sex meant rough, fast, and perfect.

Not that it isn't perfect, now. Things are different, of course.

Brock is still here, they still laugh. It's still perfect. He's careful, now, almost cautious. Phil feels cherished, loved, and maybe a little old, too. They still laugh, Brock comes home with amazing tales of the field, and it feels like home.

It's a little lonely, with him still on duty, and Phil here waiting, but it's not bad. 

Brock had been there holding his hand when they handed him the diagnosis. He had held his hand through it all, the medication, and the hospital. He had been there when Phil woke up too weak to do much, and there for the care, and the changes.

New job, new diet, new life.

Brock had clenched his teeth and told him, eyes serious : "You and I, that's not something I want to let go of. We'll manage. We'll find a way."

 

Phil's life is a little dull, and Clint brings a silliness he didn't know he could learn to love.

 

"His name is Lucky, because he's damn lucky I found him in this dumpster."

"Should I ask what you were doing in a dumpster ?"

"Eeh, probably not ?" Clint eyes his salad and asks : "What's with the rabbit food, man ? Meat and dairy won't kill you, you know ?"

"Actually it might."

 

When he finishes, Clint doesn't offer him platitudes. And just for that, Phil is thankful.

"So are you what, vegan now ?"

"I eat mostly plant-based, yes."

"And you don't miss it ?"

"Of course I do." Phil smiles at Clint frowning face. "I miss a lot of things, but better safe than sorry."

"Yeah. Yeah I get it."

 

Phil notices it right away. Clint starts to only bring vegan food to their lunch. It's stupidly touching, and for a reason he can't explain, it makes him very happy.

 

He tells Brock, when they're getting ready to sleep. He leaves Clint's name out of it, because he deserves his privacy too, after all. 

Brock smiles, his glasses askew. "I'm glad you made a friend. Seems like a nice guy."

 

Phil was great in the field. It's not ego, he just knows it as a fact. He was the best. Too bad it never applied to his personal life.

It takes Brock telling him, for him to realize Clint is his friend.

 

And of course, they are. Phil tells Clint about his family and how his parents decided not to return his calls when he came out. He tells him about his big sister moving across the country to be with him, parents be damned. He tells him about the good memories, and the bad memories.

In exchange, Clint tells him about his childhood, the circus he joined with his brother to escape foster care. He tells him about the very bad years, and the not so bad after. He tells Phil about archery, and his dog.

Clint is his friend, and it takes him a minute to admit Clint is probably his only real friend left.

He has friends, of course he does. Maria, Nick. Tony. Steve. Even Pepper. He loves them dearly, and is always happy to have lunch with them, every once in a while. 

Life is busy, he gets it.

 

That's probably why he cherishes his time with Clint. 

And he knows Clint does, too. 

He speaks about a friend, Natasha, and Phil gets it, the loneliness, the empty appartment and the silence.

 

They are good for each other.

 

It takes him a while to realize just how important Clint is, and when he does, it's like a punch in the gut. No, it's like the day of the diagnosis. It's agonizing.

He wants to run. He wants to avoid him, avoid the feelings. He wants to go back the the grey, dull life he was living.

 

Clint arrives with Lebanese take-away, and he waits until they're both settle to ask :

"So were you going to tell me you're Coulson ? THE Coulson ?" Phil smiles and looks a little apologetic. "Super-hero Coulson ? Better-than-anyone Coulson ? I've been hearing stories about how great you are before I even joined !"

"Were. It was long before you..."

"Oh shut up. You are like, Tasha's hero. She's so annoying now, wanting to meet you. She's been wanting to crash our lunches for ages, and now..."

"She's welcome to join us whenever..."

"No ! No, you don't get to be gracious when you LIED about..." Clint huffs and smile, his boyish carefree smile Phil loves. "Seriously, how many times have I embarrassed myself in front of you ?"

"Are you sure you want an answer ?" Clint throws a pita chips at him.

"No but really. You cheked my file or anything, before you let me sit here and spill my days to you ?"

"I wouldn't to that." Clint huffs again. "Clint, we are friends. I would never do that. To you, or anyone, really."

"Still, I made an ass of myself in front of Coulson."

"I'm sure you do that in front of everyone, anyway."

"Funny. That's exactly what Brock said." 

Phil knows. The moment Clint says it, he knows. 

 

"Brock ?" His voice is steady. Calm. Years in the field, and before that years to lie about himself.

"You know ? My boyfriend ?"

 

Phil smiles politely, and listens to it all. Brock, who works with Clint. They have to be careful, mostly because of the rest of the team. Clint doesn't mind, he says, but his body language says otherwise. He' fine with the secret, and his face says he's not. He's fine with being sneaky, it's hot.

Phil dies a little inside.

 

Ad he doesn't move. He doesn't say anything, because he isn't sure what he could say. What he should say.

He tries to remember, he scans his memory for something, anything. 

He looks at Clint, young and beautiful Clint. He watches the laughing eyes, and the muscles he can guess under the uniform. 

Brock fell in love with him when he was younger, stronger. He hears Clint's stories about bars, and shitty diners. About rough fucks in cheap motels and the rush of adrenaline after some missions. He hears it and he remembers.

It hurts.

He searches in his memory for something, anything that could've let him know. 

"What about you ?" Clint smiles and finishes the rest of the hummus. "You and secret boyfriend ? You never told me his name." He giggles. "Nah I get it. Must be one of the big guys, right ? There's a rumor, that you actually quit to date Captain America. That would be pretty cool."

"Something like that."

 

Clint laughs, and winks at him when they part.

 

Phil doesn't go back to work. He goes home, and stands in the middle of the living room for a while. 

This is his home. Their home.

Brock had insisted on them moving together. He had crushed all of Phil's arguments, stubborn. Phil had said, at one point, that he would get bored of taking care of an invalid.

He showers, because he feels like it'll help him concentrate. He avoids his reflection, because of the scar, but not only. He avoids the grey hair, and his new body. He isn't thin, by any means, but he is far from the defined arms, the hard abs. He's more of a runner, lately, he isn't big as he used to.

He is nothing like Clint.

He is already in bed, in the dark, when Brock comes home. 

He listens to him in the shower, and thinks about confrontation.  
He listens to him closing doors and setting up their alarm, and he thinks about giving him a clue.  
He listens to him getting things ready for their breakfast in the morning, and he closes his eyes.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Brock's voice is deep, a little broken. Exhausted, he thinks. Sex, his mind supplies. "Didn't wait for me ?"

"I had a long day." Brock puts his head on his shoulder, and his breath warms the skin close to his collarbone.

"Tell me about it. We were training newbies. It's a nightmare. Never gonna get how you could love it."

"It's interesting. All this potential. This pent-up energy."

"Yeah. Maybe." 

 

When Brock holds his face and kisses him, Phil has made up his mind.

This is home. 

Brock makes love to him, and whispers how much he loves him. That's enough. That's all he ever wanted.

 

He wants to avoid lunch with Clint. He wants to. 

Nothing good can happen. Nothing.

 

Clint buys them vegan burritos, and charms the girl into free guacamole. He laughs when he hands Phil his food, and Phil laughs too.

This isn't Clint's fault. Hell this isn't anyone's fault. Not even Brock's not really.

It'll pass.

 

Clint tells him about the circus, and Phil notices how eager Clint his to make him smile. How he purposely sometimes lies a little, just so he leaves things out, just so it doesn't sound so awful. 

Clint is an amazing friend, Phil decides.

 

Nothing changes, really. Phil works, and goes back home. He goes back to the gym, and doesn't even try to come up with excuses like health or self esteem. 

Brock is home almost every night, and they even talk about taking a few days, together. 

Clint keeps bringing them weird food to try, and he seems to really love his new team. He moans about Natasha, and how scary she can be, but Phil sees right through it. Clint is happy.

 

Brock doesn't come home until late, and he smells like the cheap little ivory soaps you can find in motels. Underneath it all, Phil is sure he recognize Clint's smell, and he eats some crackers at his desk, too shaken to face him the day after.

 

Natasha is so beautiful Phil can't help but stare. He doesn't try to hide it, and she seems to like him for it. Clint watches them like an hawk, very scared to leave them alone, even for a little while.

He has to, to go find a lost delivery guy with their food, and Phil is almost sure the tiny redhead in front of him is responsible for the misunderstanding.

"Clint likes you a lot." she says. Her smile is nice, engaging. And fake. 

"Clint is a great friend."

"I'm glad you think so. He's my best friend, and I love him very much." She folds her perfectly manicured hands in front of herself. "Clint doesn't have a lot of friends."

"And that's a shame."

For a handful of seconds, Phil thinks she's going to break. She's going to stop the act and tell him exactly what she wants to.

"Guys !" Clint is back, arms full of boxes and a giant smile on his face. "I hope you're hungry. I went with pizza today."

 

Natasha doesn't complain about the vegan pizzas. She doesn't try to stop Clint when he starts with stories about them. No she just watches him, with a tolerant smile and lets him babble.

It's a very good day.

 

Clint doesn't really talk about Brock anymore. He mentions him, sometimes in passing. He talks about late fast food runs and messy handjobs in a car. He talks about a bar, now their bar, and the motel room they always go to.

Phil nods, that's all he can do.

He talks a little, because Clint starts to be, not exactly suspicious, but he asks. He's curious, and of course he should be. Phil knows everything.

So he keeps names out of everything, and he tells him about the house, and the nights spent apart. He tells him about the changes the operation brought, and the holidays they were planing to take.

 

"That's a good guy." Clint smiles, but this isn't his usual smile. He looks older, wiser. A little dangerous. "I was wondering, you looked sad recently. Didn't want to assume."

"I've been... distracted."

"Yeah, I bet." Clint's hand is warm on his arm. "You know you can talk to me, right ? Like, I tell you everything happening in my life, so you know you can tell me stuff too, right ?"

"I know, Clint."

 

Two days later, Clint tells him about a fight he had with Brock. He tells him about the yells, and the slamming doors.

All Phil can think about is how sweet Brock had been. How gentle and attentive. He thinks about their breakfast in bed, and the coffee kisses. 

He almost feels guilty. That's probably why, when Clint asks for advices, Phil helps him.

 

"You should just talk to him." he hears himself say. "If you want this to be serious, you have to tell him. You deserve to be happy, Clint. You are allowed to ask for things."

He means every words.

Clint hugs him when they part, and Phil shakes so much he has to stop and sit in this office. He breathes in slowly and makes a mental list of everything that could go wrong.

He breathes out.

He could lose Brock.  
He could lose Clint.

He isn't sure how he would survive.

Brock tells him about a mission, and kisses him goodbye on the doorstep. He calls him every night, and tells him how much he misses him.

Clint isn't in the park for a week, and when he comes back, he tells Phil about the sun and the lake, about the cabin and the forest around.

Brock holds him in their kitchen, and he tells him over and over how much he missed him. Phil laughs, that's all he can do, and he tells him what a sap he is.

"I can't believe you're making fun of me." He kisses Phil on the temple, and on his chin. "I can't believe I was going to ask you to come with me for a few days, leave this shit behind us."

Phil doesn't ask about the mission. He doesn't ask about anything, really. He feels guilty when he tells Clint about the week he's taking.

"You deserve it, Phil." Clint looks a little sad, a little unhappy. Phil wonders if Brock told him about a mission too. 

He feels guilty.

 

Brock doesn't book a cabin, and Phil is thankful for that. They go to the same resort they always book, where the chef knows their preferences, and where the staff treats them almost like friends. 

The food is good, and Phil gets a myriad on new freckles on his skin. They go kayaking, and on small hikes. They bike around, and Phil almmost feels like before. 

The sex is different too, none of them so careful. It's hot, it's amazing, and they are almost never apart. Brock follows him to the shower, they eat together, they sleep in the sun together.

He wonders, just when he'll sneak around to message Clint. To call him and tell him he misses him so much.

If it happens, Phil doesn't see it. He's either too old or too blind.

 

Clint hugs him. That's not something Phil was expecting. Clint hugs him, and he puts his hand on Phil's cheek for a second. 

"I sure hope you had fun, man." Phil smiles. "Because I kind of missed you. How come we never exchanged numbers ? What kind of friends are we ?"

"The kind who eats too much and forget about the rest ?"

Clint tells him about Tasha. About the new recruits he has to supervize now, and the issues he has with some of them. When he mentions his transfer, Phil frowns.

"What do you mean you're not on field duty anymore ?"

"Been there, done that ?" Clint shrugs, eyes on the newbies running around. "T'was time for a change. I want to have a life, you know ?"

"I.. suppose, yes." And because Clint is his friend, because he looks closed off and a little unhappy, Phil asks : "Is your boyfriend okay with that ?"

"Well, not too sure about that." Clint avoids his eyes. "Haven't heard from him in a while. Not after we..." Clint looks at him, eyes serious. "I guess I realized we didn't have much in common. I'm not... going to be okay with being a fuck buddy. You told me, I deserve better."

"You do." This time, it's Phil who reaches out and touch Clint's arm. "I am sorry, Clint. I am."

"I know. You're a great friend Phil. You know that, right ?"

 

They exchange numbers. Clint tells him about the bigger appartment he wants to rent, and how he'll finally be able to take Lucky back.

"He chews Tasha's shoes, and he peed on her perfect rug. She's going to eat him one day."

 

Phil notices. The way Clint is looking at him. Like he's upset, like there's something he wants to say.

"Phil." They're almost too far apart for Phil to understand. "You know you deserve it too, right ? To be happy."

 

It gets a little cold, the park almost empty. Phil brings enough soup for two, feeling old, so old and boring when he packs two lunches, like a dad, like a creepy uncle.

He forgets his self-loathing when Clint's smiles erases everything from his mind. 

"You brought soup for me ?"

"Well, I told you I would take care of lunch." Clint makes grabby-hands at him until he can open the glass jar, still warm from the little trip to the cafeteria.

"Yes, but I didn't think you would cook ! What is in there, it smells amazing ?"

Phil smiles, and hands him the small sandwich he packed just in case. 

"It's vegetable minestrone, and a small pesto and avocado sandwich." Clint looks a little shell-shocked, and doesn't make a move to start his lunch. "Clint...? Is everything alright ?"

"Yes. No, nothing man. Thank you." He blushes at his first sip, and Phil promises himself he'll revisit his cookbook during the weekend.

 

Brock slams the door and leaves.

Fights were pretty common, at first. Phil knows just how infuriating he can be, he knows just how to push people, just what to do or say to make them lose control. He had to survive two older sisters, and a childhood full of Captain America merch and being top of the class. 

Their fights were pretty spectacular, he remembers. Screaming matches, and sometimes one of them being pinned on the wall. 

It's been a while. If he remembers well, nothing that big happened since the operation.

He's a little surprised, too, when he doesn't just let it go, when he gets upset, no, when he gets mad. Because he knows. He just knows what it all means. The late nights, the ivory soap, the lies. 

And he feels stupid, too. For the food he packed for Clint. For their laughs, and the affection he has for the younger man. He feels stupid for thinking it would end so easily.

 

"Hey, boss !!" Clint runs to him, and remembers they are actually still working before he goes and hug him. Phil is surprised, but he knows better than to show it and just smiles politely, letting Maria explains how Clint is now part of the team. 

"Sometimes you guys need a link to the field jocks." Clint looks at him with a bright smile, delighted to be there it seems. Maria is smirking, probably ready to grill him about this new addition over coffee.

Phil stays cool, and calm. He didn't make it this far being stupid, letting his emotions rule his head. But he's tired, and hurt. Brock has been absent for the past three days, and that's why over lunch in his office, he asks :

"How did Tasha react to the transfer ?" Clint smiles, always happy to talk about his best friend. He always seems so glad when Phil asks questions, when Phil shows genuine interest. 

"She is kind of happy for me. She knew I wanted to get away from there." There's more here, but Clint shrugs. "I always wanted to be in liaison, and well..." He blushes and studies his food. "I am very glad I get to work with you. I know we are friends, but it's an honor, Sir."

 

And it's probably because of the eager smile, because of the way Clint laughs and stretch on his couch that Phil doesn't ask about Brock.

He can deal with it.

 

Brock comes back, and apologizes. 

Phil doesn't know if it's because he's tired, because he knows, but suddenly it seems impossible not to notice. The way he excuses himself, the way he lies. The way he holds him close and tells him about this new mission. 

"Four days, five tops, and then I'll be home. We could even try and do something for Halloween this year, what do you think ?"

Phil smiles and nods. 

Brock leaves him to think. He isn't sure he likes it.

 

Clint is on his couch in the morning, coffee waiting for them both. 

If Phil was worried at first, Clint is nothing but professional. A little young, probably, still not used to the way things run in this part of SHIELD, but he learns a lot, and Phil has to scold him once of twice for bringing work back home, and even submitting reviews during his off days.

It hurts to see him there. 

It hurts, because Brock being somewhere with Clint was bearable. He had made peace with it. Clint is a wonderful, amazing man, and if Brock had to fall for someone else, Phil could see, could understand why Clint.

BUt him, being away with... someone. It changed things. It changed everything.

"You okay there, boss ?"

And it must show, on his face that he isn't, because Clint stands up and comes to him, and this isn't professional, this isn't remotely caml and collected, but Clint hugs him slowly, a hand cupping the back of his head, and Phil suddenly notices that he's shaking.

"You want to tell me what's wrong ?"

Phil just shakes his head and Clint doesn't push. 

 

The breakup isn't even a huge ordeal. Four days are more than enough. Phil takes a few days, actually making Susan in HR smile, and he boxes everything, throwing away their life and his so-called happiness. 

He doesn't look for a place to stay, he isn't sure he'll be able to make any decision just now. 

He sends everything to the storage provided by the job, and packs enough to move into one of the small rooms on the base.

Susan doesn't smile when he submits his change of status and new adress. 

 

"So you're telling me that not only do you know the infamous Tony Stark, but you used to work for him ?" Clint looks half in awe half amused at the gossip running around. Phil tries not to roll his eyes at the way Maria seems to love feeding him new stories.

"I was in charge of Tony's security for a while, yes."

"Oh, Tony ? You guys were that close, uh ?"

"No matter what you're implying, I can tell you it's not true. At that time Tony Stark was dating an amazing woman I have the pleasure to call my friend, and they were pretty happy together."

"Wow." Clint studies him from the couch he all but claimed since day one. Phil keeps his eyes on the laptop screen, mostly becaus this report is taking him hours and he can't wait to just go to sleep, but also because he isn't sure of the way Clint keep staring, sometimes. "Sometimes I forget just how much of a legend you are." Phil smirks at that. "I mean... you're my friend, you're the guy I spend all of my time with, but then someone tells me a story and I realizes just how amazing you are."

"Clint..."

"You are, Phil." 

 

Steve Rogers shows up one Friday afternoon, and Phil doesn't think twice before engulfing him into a hug.

They exchange jokes, and polite small talk while they walk to his office. Steve looks younger, maybe. He looks good. Phil knows he'll probably never be able to get rid of his crush, but he knows Steve is his friend. Just like Tony. Just like everything he let go of after his diagnosis.

"Tony heard about you moving back here. I guess I decided to just come and see how you were."

"I am doing okay, I suppose." Steve puts his hand on his shoulder, and it feels good. "I can't say it was easy, but sometimes you just have to..."

"You could've called us." Phil shakes his head. "Phil, Tony and I would've been there in a minute. You should've called us. You don't need to stay here, you could come to the house. God knows we have enough room for you too..."

"We, uh ?" Steve blushes bright red, and Phil can't help but laugh. "I guess you and Tony finally managed to understand a thing or two in my absence ?"

"Phil..."

"I am okay. Not that I don't appreciate your offer." Phil takes Steve's hand in his. "I do. And maybe I shouldn't have vanished like I did. But I need time for myself."

"As long as you know we miss you."

 

They hug again, when they part.

 

Phil doesn't go back to his office. He has nothing urgent waiting, and more importantly, he realizes he really needs time to think. 

 

He isn't sure he let himself think in a while.

 

It's almost midnight when Clint finds him on their bench, sitting in the dark.

"So..." he hands him a gigantic cup of something hot, and Phil cough a few times when the Irish Coffee burn his way through. "You and new boyfriend decided to play rookie for the afternoon, and you decided to daydream about his baby blue eyes in the park ?"

"You noticed the blue eyes."

"I don't miss much. Usually."

Phil smiles. The Coffee is dark and rich. The cream actual heavy cream, not that whipped nonsense. It's good to indulge. It's good to be stupid, and drink in the dark, knowing he'll probably regret it in a few hours.

"So who was that ?"

"An old friend."

"An old friend you used to have a crush on."

"You need to stop listening to everything you hear, Barton." Phil snaps. "Steve and Tony have been together for years. They just wanted to let me know their guest room was waiting, just in case." It annoys him that he has to explain, and it annoys him even more that he wants to. 

"Oh."

 

The whiskey sits on his empty stomach, and Clint has to help him open his door, and into the small place.

"Kind of looks like my place." He smiles and gets rid of his jacket, then helping Phil with his coat. "Yours is cleaner."

"The Army does that to you." Phil has to close his eyes because the room just tipped, and it's so weird, drinking after years without a drop. Clint pushes him to the small bed, and takes care of his shoes. 

"You know, it's kind of weird. I don't think I ever saw you like this."

"Like what ? Drunk ?"

"Trusting." He opens his eyes, and Clint is there, pushing the shoes and the socks away. He's kneeling on the floor, and Phil just sees it. The affection. The small smile. "You're not an easy man to love, Coulson."

He closes his eyes again. 

 

In the morning, Clint is sent to Guyana, and Phil is left to wonder if everything was just a dream.

 

He sees Nick, on a Saturday night. They go over to his house, and they have amazing food with too much beer.

"I thought you were healthy vegan now ?" Nick doesn't judge, that's what makes him a wonderful friend. Phil chews on his burger, and tries to order his thoughts.

"I gess I need to start living a little."

"You're damn right."

 

He goes to surprise Tony, with the help of Steve. He isn't sure just how they became friends, just when they stopped just being work, but almost family. 

Tony hugs him back, and he looks happy to see him.

They sit together, and they talk about the old days, about the good memories. 

When he waits for his car, Steve fast asleep on the couch, Tony just stays with him. 

 

"You didn't have to ditch us, you know ?"

"I know."

"If anything, we could've had a lot of emotional talks about heart failure and the power of green juices."

"Of course."

"But I get it. I suppose. The need to push people away."

"Yeah." Phil sighs a little. "I'm sorry, Tony."

"Don't apologize now. Wait until Steve finds the courage to use the puppy eyes on you. You'll know what sorry feels like."

 

It feels like coming home.

 

Brock finds him after a run, because he's nothing if predictable. Phil watches him approach, and feels a pang of regret. He sees it all, the laughs, and the holidays, and the life they had together.

Mostly, he feels sad. And tired.

 

"You looks good." Phil smiles at that. "You do. You look better. Rested."

"I'm not wondering who you're fucking anymore." Brock chuckles at that. 

"When did you notice ?"

"Is it important ?"

"Guess not."

Brock looks handsome, still. He looks like the man Phil fell for, years ago.

"You friends never liked me much, from the start, do you remember ?" 

It's Phil's turn to snort.

"I wasn't sure Steve could hate someone before."

"Yeah. Stark hated my guts, too. Most of your friends. It was nice of you to stop seeing them, when we moved."

"I'm not sure it was conscious on my part."

"Yeah." Brock keeps his hands in his jacket, and Phil wonders if he feels it too, the need to hold hands, like they always did on walks like this. "That's the thing with you."

"What do you mean ?"

"I never knew. If you meant anything, of if it was just you being oblivious."

"So that's why you cheated on me ?"

"You're not even upset at me." Brock smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "How many years ? How many years, and you just erased our life as if it was nothing to you."

"You don't have the right to be angry."

"You do." Brock is frowning, and it takes Phil a handful of seconds to realize he's almot crying. "You do, but you didn't. You just... you just."

"You wanted me to get angry." It's a lot to take in. Suddenly it looks so clear. "You wanted me to confront you."

"I wanted you to care. Why don't you fucking care ?" The words break in the end, and Brock stubbornly fixes his eyes on the floor. "It's not a fucking excuse. I am not searching for excuses. I was an asshole. I am. But you just didn't care."

"I did. I do."

"Nah you don't." Brock wipes his eyes on the back of his sleeve and looks angry, sad. Lost. "You stopped caring, along the way."

"Maybe you're right." Phil thinks about the early days. "But it hurt. You and Clint. It hurt."

"Why didn't you say anything, then ?"

"I didn't want to lose you." Brock looks at him, a little bewildered. "I didn't want to lose you, so I lied too. Because he was my friend, and I was too scared of losing you both.

"How can you even compare the two of us ?"

They're almost at the base when Brock stops.

"Do you want us to try again ?" He stays silent. "I could do therapy. I could get a transfer."

"Do you even regret anything ?"

Phil doesn't move when Brock kisses him. It feels nice, it feels safe, oddly. Brock still smells the same, his hands still rough. 

They part, and he waits until his shower to cry over the end of their relationship.

 

Clint comes back bruised, and with an attitude. He snarls at Maria and breaks protocol several times during his quarantine. The whole unit is pretty much done with him when Phil sits him on his couch for a feedback.

"Can we please do this quick ? Tasha is waiting and a quick fuck will help me clear my head." Phil sees the challenge, the provocation, and decides to let it go.

"Is that what you need ? To clear your head ?"

"Why the fuck are you interested, Coulson ?"

"Because you're risking your place, Barton." And this seems to calm him down. Clint looks mad, upset and then wary. "I don't know what happened in Guyana. You don't have to tell me, and I won't read the file unless you give me a reason to fire you. But you should know that right now, most of the team want you out, and so far I don't see any reason not to give them hat they want."

"You'd get rid of me ?" Clint sounds small. Almost scared. It shouldn't be possible, but Phil doesn't see the strong shoulders, and the tall frame, he looks like a little kid.

"I want you to go, and see Natasha. Do whatever you want, and decide if whatever is going on is worth risking your future here."

"So you wouldn't care ?" Phil feels bad for making the links. Problematic childhood, trust issues. Clint is an open book right now, his eyes bloodshot and circled in black.

"You are a valuable part of the team, Clint."

"No. Not that." Clint looks almost... betrayed. "You don't care if I hook up with Tasha. You just don't care."

"I didn't know you two were together."

"That's not what I'm fucking asking !" Clint is shaking, and Phil remembers the tenderness, the gentle fingers on his ankles. 

"Do you want me to be jealous ?"

 

Clint slams the door and forgets his jacket. 

Phil sits at his desks, hands folded in front of him. 

After a minute, he sends a text.

 

I am.

 

Clint shows up at his door, several hours later. He holds out a few bags smelling like Lebanese Food, and Phil smiles, letting him in.

 

"So. I heard stuff." He shuffles around a few times, and finally sits on the floor, his back to the bed. "That's the thing with being away. You hear stuff, and you can't ask shit, because they listen to everything."

"You hate feeling trapped."

"Fucking hate it." 

 

Phil sets everything up in front of them. The floor is actually clean enough for them to eat right there. Clint looks exhausted, and his usual hearing aids are gone, replaced by a bright purple model. He smells like soap, and his clothes smell fresh. He probably had a quick power nap, his shoulders almost relaxed.

"Were you with Natasha ?" 

Phil isn't sure why he asks. But he does, and Clint blushes and plays with his left hear.

"Yeah... about that. It was bluff. She would probably kill me if she knew I said something like that to you."

"So you two aren't an item ?"

"We have been. Sometimes. Some mission can really fuck you up."

"I know."

"Phil..." Clint grabs his sleeve. "I need to tell you something. I need to say something, and you're probably going to hate me, but I need to say it okay ?"

"Okay."

Clint breathes in, and hides his eyes in his hands. 

"The guy I used to date. Back when we met." He breathes out. "It was your partner. It was Brock."

"I know." Clint doesn't move, so Phil sits properly, close to him, and adds. "The moment you said his name, I knew."

"You knew." Clint stares at him, hands falling to his knees. "You never said anything."

"I didn't think it was necessary to hurt you on purpose." Phil shrugs. "I didn't want to lose him, and I didn't want to lose you."

"I broke up with him the minute I learned about you. And I've been feeling guilty ever since."

"Is that what this is ? Guilt ?" Clint hand slowly moves to his.

"No. This, I've bee thinking about for a while."

 

It's difficult, eating with one hand, but they manage. After a while, Clint all but cuddles him, and Phil is too busy enjoying it to say anything.

The food is almost gone, the only light from the tiny lamp on the floor.

"Why were you mad ?"

"A newbie saw you kiss Brock few days ago. It's breaking news, this week."

"We were breaking up. For good."

 

"How come you get a small bathroom ?" Clint looks good in his sweats, Phil decides. There's a new toothbrush in the glass on the sink, and Clint doesn't even hesitate before cuddling him. The bed isn't made for two men, but again, they manage.

"It comes with old age."

"Shuttup." Clint puts his nose on the nape of his neck and seems to smell him in. "It's ridiculous, my room is three doors away. I should just go over there."

"I am not stopping you."

"Shuttup."

 

They find a routine.

Work is work. 

Clint's room is forgotten, and after a few days he starts to keep part of his kit at Phil's.

 

"Isn't this like, against regulation or something ?" Clint is sitting on the floor, reading one of the books he pilfered from Phil's meagre collection.

"The only person I answer to is Nick. I think as long as we can be adult about it, he's pretty happy to pretend he doesn't know about anything."

"Nick..." Clint shudders. "Not sure I'll ever be able to call big bad Fury Nick." He pretends to read for a minute, then asks. "Phil, what are we ?" Phil almost messes up their food order, and Clint hurries. "Not that I am asking for anything. I mean, we haven't kissed, and I'm cool with that. Just... can you give me some hints. Maybe ?"

Phil nods, and Clint goes back to his book.

They eat on the floor, and Clint is too silent for it to be comfortable.

 

They're lying in the dark when he starts :

"I'm not really sure who I am, anymore." Clint's head rests on his shoulder, and he kisses his forehead. "I stopped seeing my friends. I stopped doing a lot when I discovered I was sick."

"Like food." They laugh softly at that. Late at night, in the dark, it sounds hilarious.

"You said you loved me." he adds when they sober up, and Clint doesn't sound surprised. 

"You remember that, uh ?"

"I don't know what we are, Clint. I want to spend time with you, and I want to figure out who I am. With you."

"I can do that." 

 

"So. I got a call, few days ago." They are walking from one of the restaurant they seem to always go back to. "Tasha is leaving SHIELD next month, and apparently she recommended me. SI wanted to know if I would be interested." Clint glances at him and smiles. "And from the look you're giving me, you didn't know about it ?"

"No, I didn't ask Tony, or pulled any string. I didn't know you wanted out, to be honest."

"I don't." Clint shrugs, and guides them to the line for some very late ice cream. "Boy, I am happy you're being a little light on the whole healthy plant-base thing."

"They do have vegan options here, I'm sure."

"Yeah, but Nutella Ice Cream, boss."

 

Clint tastes like Nutella, and coffee beans. It should be awful mixed to his passionfruit and mango, but Phil finds he doesn't mind.

 

Clint is laying on the bed, watching him.

Not that Phil minds. They aren't there yet, but he's pretty optimistic about their relationship. It feels like college, but without the awkwardness and fumbling. 

"You look good, you know." Phil smirks at Clint in the mirror. "You do ! Let me say this okay ?"

"Okay."

"You look... better." Clint eyes his back, his ass, his legs. He's smiling, but it's not exactly sexual. "You used to look so sad, when we first met. You hardly smiled, remember ?"

"I wasn't exactly happy." Clint moves a little to leave him a little space, and his fingers go to the scar. Phil doesn't remember the last time he bothered with a shirt to sleep. 

"Yeah. Yeah. But you are now, right ?" Clint smiles, boyish and sweet. "I mean, you're living the life, drinking, eating meat, seeing your friends..."

"Soon I'll fall into gambling and fornication." 

Clint laughs at that, goofy and charming. Phil is pretty sure he's not that funny. But Clint still looks at him like he's the best man around and that's something he's getting used to, too.

 

"I am very glad I sat with you in that park, Phil." Clint's eyes are sparkling. They're two grown men trying to fit onto a small bed. Phil doesn't have a house, he doesn't remember the last time he had a juice, the last time he thought about the operation, his heart.

"Me too." He means it.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it ! If so, please hit the kudos button and leave me a nice comment ? They make my days.
> 
>  
> 
> While I still have your attention, please remember to drink water and don't stay up too late. And if like me you're the best at forgetting meds and glasses, this is me telling you to take your meds and to go put your glasses on, little nerd.


End file.
